Roomies
by The-Queen-of-Fantasy
Summary: More nights are spent arguing than sharing lighthearted pillow fights when Miriam finds herself rooming with the BAU's resident genius. With her best friend Morgan to give her heart the pointed nudges it needs and those unruly brown curls to lure her in, come and see if their passion burns them up or settles into a steamy flame.
1. Miriam

**Miriam**

When she agreed to be a good Samaritan to Morgan's work buddy by graciously letting him take half of her rent check, she did it under the pretense that he would be in a different city for his job at least 11 of the 12 months of the year. Or at least gone when she was home from her traveling job. _Not_ that when he was home he would be nothing less than a holy terror. Her door was sealed tight, but still she could make out the incoherent rambling coming from his mouth in their living area.

Her clock told her it was 0235. Her body told her it was half past shut the fuck up. She flung her blanket against the wall, scooping up the nearest pillow as the weapon with which she would commit his murder. His team would have no trouble solving this one.

"Doctor!" She bellowed, storming out of her room in nothing but her tank and biker shorts.

She originally decorated the room with sparsely placed blue and green throw pillows to bring out the lighter hues in the muted brown wallpaper. The curtains were arranged neatly to allow her a view of the neighborhood but also keep prying eyes away. He, however, saw the space as his working office and tended to decorate it with pictures that sent her guests stumbling for the doorway.

Spencer Reid did not even glance up from his pacing. He wore only socks but he could have been marching with the marines for all the noises he emitted. On top of that, his mouth ran as fast as a motor to keep him on track with whatever blood and disturbing case he worked on tonight. Her pillow hurled at gale force speeds to smack into his back.

"Miriam, you are brilliant!"

He whirled, a tangle of short sloppy curls and clashing patterns from his shirt and tie. She considered tackling his lanky form and silencing him forever, but her unrelenting writer's curiosity took over. She growled out a reply and collapsed to join the multitude of files on the couch. The newspaper would have her up in a few hours anyway.

"From behind. Of course, that makes sense. The unsub was inferior but not just mentally. It was physically. So, let's say I'm a delusional histrionic who blames everyone else for not realizing his great potential."

"Let's," she deadpanned.

He carried on without hearing the laced sarcasm. "So I come at you from this angle," he circled around the couch. Long arms rested on either side of her shoulders and his infernal scent washed over her. No matter how many air fresheners she hung, it would not cancel out the overwhelming smell of sugary coffee and stale airplane peanuts. "And I incapacitate you enough to get you in my van. God, why haven't I realized this sooner?" The tie became a burden which he wrenched off and discarded atop his miscellaneous pile in the far corner. She was fairly certain it was starting its own ecosystem.

"Because normal brain functioning shuts off at midnight just like McDonalds and drug stores and anything decently useful to society."

"That little store on the corner is 24 hours."

"Since when?" She asked through a yawn.

"The whole time I've lived here at least."

"Oh, thank god. I am craving hot chips. You're driving brainy bunch."

"I'm sorry what? I only found a piece to this case. I haven't put the puzzle together yet. Based on my observations there's at least three vital factors I'm missing to even begin piecing together this profile."

"Come on, you need a break. Don't you get middle of the night munchies like normal people? You've got to be craving something. Might as well give in."

"Food does help brain function improve," Reid allowed.

"As does sleep, but you look too far gone for that to be of any use. So what's it gonna be?"

He sighed, reaching for his wallet as a sign of resignation to the task. She grappled with the dirty basket of laundry that had been waiting on her to do it for going on two weeks now. The pair of sweats she found would pass for decent and the hole in the ass only showed her pink cheekies and not her actual cheek. Reid found a whole shoe and searched for a solid two minutes before making the bold choice of pairing the loafer with a house slipper.

"Sexy," she winked, flip flops smacking the wooded floors beneath her as she strode to the door.

Reid swept up his car keys, trailing after her less than reluctantly. She might even dare to say the doctor was relieved to move out from under the weight of the straining case load. Two hands swept his short hair back into place though the wind could not grasp the short strands. A thumb adjusted his glasses as the harsh street lights glared down on them.

While she lived in the very best neighborhood her limited salary could afford, she had heard too many of Morgan's stories to not be conscientious of her surroundings. The apartment complex was gated. East and West wings stretched out from the center to box in a courtyard where the majority of her inspiration for writing her articles came from. The parking lot was out back, but fortunately for her, Reid had found a spot right in front. She blamed it on his unpredictable work hours. After her immediate surroundings and lack of a threat set in, her peripherals shifted to her roommate. A gun sat on his hip and a tight frown on his lips.

A nudge of her shoulder to his broke him from his thoughts at least for the moment. "Did you know that crime actually peaks between 9 pm and midnight? By now it's starting to wind down. Did you know that is completely reversed in adolescents?"

"You seem like a pringles guy to me? What's your poison? Original? Nacho cheese? Oh god, is it the sour cream and onion. Those are like crack, I swear."

Neither rambling party ceased as they got into the car and began to drive. Reid filled her in on weird and somewhat disturbing facts and she filled his lapses with banter that slowly weaned off taking jabs at him. By the time they pulled into the parking lot, her face was cramping. It was from smiling, she realized. This utter jackass of a roommate was not completely horrible at being a person.

He turned to her with the sobriety of a monk. He leaned close like the secrets of the white house itself were at risk of being revealed in that moment. "War heads," he said.

"Like, nuclear?" she questioned, still caught in the previous train of thought.

"Like the candy." He smiled now too. Thought it was faint, it was enough to provoke a highly unwarranted reaction from Miriam's chest. She blamed it on delirium from lack of sleep. Caused by him. To distract from the twist in her heart and the flutter in her gut, she climbed from the car and plucked them a lonely buggy from the parking lot. "In you go," she said.

"Do you know how many germs those things cart around? Plus that's just undignified," Reid chastised. "Also, I don't quite trust you enough to push me around in that thing. Statistically speaking, based on our limited interactions, you would more likely push me into a ditch and drive away than actually take me into the store."

"I'm classier than that. I'd probably just leave you with your own kind. The trash."

"Very funny. Actually…"

With a shrug, she crawled in instead and grabbed at his belt loop. "Then you push." She waited for the rebuttable. For the bite that always came when they held any conversation the length two normal humans would in passing greetings. But he just sighed and wrapped his long fingers around the handles, pushing up the hill to the entrance.

Aisles decked in summer garbs stretched out before them. A blow up palm tree waved as it deflated and refilled with air. Fake grass was sewn onto the bottoms of the walls to give the landlocked store an islander feel. Miriam plucked a lei as Reid wheeled her towards the snack section. She turned, setting it around his thin neck. The purple flowers complimented the stripes in his shirt and she added another few out of spite.

"You know I'm from Nevada, right. Now, Hawaii?"

A laugh claimed the quiet atmosphere. She sat back in the basket to roll her eyes up at him. "Dear, doctor, I didn't know you could make a joke. Did it hurt? Should I call a different kind of doctor? Do you need to catch your breath?"

"It was a statement of facts, rather. You interpret it however your brain sees best fit to cope with a situation. Each party reads it differently no matter what we were discussing. We could be talking about puppies and you could be giddy, while I would be neutral because I have never owned one."

A launch from her coiled legs set her free of the metal encasing of the buggy. She seized up the first bag of hot chips and immediately opened them. Reid's mouth pursed, but a few feet later he distracted himself with his own discovered candy. He set it carefully in the basket while Miriam stormed ahead to throw her pocket full of change on the counter of the clerk.

"That'll cover the both of you, miss," the greying man behind the cash register said.

"You're lucky this isn't a first date, Reid, otherwise you would be forking over for the fortune for this haul."

"Jerry gives me a discount," Reid replied.

"How's it going, Spencer? No coffee tonight?" Jerry called. He folded his wrinkled hands over a distended belly that was no doubt caused by the empty case of beer at his feet.

"Had some earlier, but thanks. How is your knee treating you? Did you go to that specialist I recommended?"

"Fixed me right up. Can't pronounce my medicine, which I take to mean it's good shit. Finally got you a woman, I see?"

"Oh, Jerry," Miriam patted his hand, collecting their bag of junk food. "You will see our names side by side in the obituary before wedding invitations. We called a temporary truce for the higher good of trans fat and sugar highs tonight, though."

Reid had his hand on her back, pushing her towards the exit, cart long forgotten in the middle of the wannabe tropical paradise. "I'll see you tomorrow, Jerry."

Miriam munched as they traveled, eyeing Reid's lanky form for any more of the strange secrets he harbored. He probably hid them in the pockets of those baggy cardigans or maybe the frumpy waves of hair atop his thick skull.

"Any way I can get in on that discount?" she asked.

Spencer turned the keys in the ignition but reached for the bag instead of pulling away. She flicked a chip at him, giggling when I landed in his hair. Her fingers snatched it back, plopping it in her mouth before he could wrinkle his nose in disgust.

"Do you know the amount of pollution hair acquires in just one day?"

"I'm sure you're going to tell me," she leaned closer with mock enthusiasm. "Or you're going to say it's been more than one day since you've washed it."

He did not take the bait, but instead set to work on his candy. There was something to the angle she sat at. The parking lot lamps must have lit his face just so. The music surely manipulated her heart with the perfect mixture of curiosity and mischief. His brown eyes flitted and his hands fidgeted in his lap while he fought the urge to be a smart ass. She blamed the air conditioner vents for the chill that claimed her spine when he noticed her sudden stillness and met her gaze. A nuclear bomb truly could have dropped on them and she would have been none the wiser. She was a willing captive in the radiating cloud of his presence.

Attractions did not happen like this. They were leisurely and deliberate not demanding and suffocating. _God,_ it was everything she could do to not check her life off as complete and give in to the grave. Because women dreamed of men looking at her the way Reid was. Like they were worth more than any check could quantify. It was definitely the delirium talking. And fuck it, she was ready to answer.

She leaned forward slowly, giving him ample opportunities to run screaming into the night or laugh in her face. He met her halfway. She inhaled sharply and his lower lip slid between hers, melding their mouths into one succinct instrument capable of creating the most delicious melody from their mingled sighs. Her teeth toyed with the offering, her hands tested the waters of his hair. They both could have stood to brush their teeth. Sour and salty; logical and free-willed. She was not half, and he was not her whole, but when she kissed him none of the nightmares she wrote about or he lived stood a chance against the light they created.

"Stop," Reid murmured between sweet satisfying pressing of their tongues. It was half-hearted and his voice wavered, but she obliged still.

The seat back collided with her own. The reality hit her a full minute later. Her hand wiped across her mouth, taking all remnants of the deed with it. "Good call there doctor. Let's hit that hay before we make any more bad decisions."

"It was not bad necessarily just unplanned, uncalculated and could lead to complications as we continue to live together."

"Wouldn't have happened if you would just sleep like a normal person."

"Normal is so relative. What's perceived as normal to the western world would be completely foreign to people say from the Himalayas."

"Fucking drive," she grumbled, curling up in her seat. The chips were forgotten. The sour taste remaining in her mouth spoiled everything else.


	2. Morgan

"Never explain that to me again," Morgan deadpanned, distracting himself with the meal of french toast and eggs set out before him.

The wind tugged at his black baseball cap and plastered his already fitted orange shirt to his well-defined body. A striped red and white awning overhead did nothing to protect them from the still rising sun. Its incessant rays rammed straight through her thin tank top and the concrete beneath her feet already simmered though the morning had just begun. A tug of her ponytail readjusted the mess from their morning run and a quick adjusting of her shorts rendered her ready to give her oldest companion the hell he deserved.

"We haven't seen each other in two weeks. You could at least pretend to be interested in my life."

"I am, angel. Just not that abomination of a sandwich you concocted. Where did you even get the idea to roast marshmallows on the open flame of your stove much less to put said burnt items on bread and meat?"

"When two am hit, my stomach is game for just about anything. Reid ate it."

"That kid can put away anything. He enjoying his week of leave? It's rare we don't get called back in for an emergency case. I'm getting all antsy just sitting around."

"Need to do another mile or two?" she asked.

Morgan rocked onto the back legs of his metal chair, tongue swiping out over his grinning teeth in intrigue. He cracked his knuckles before settling them lazily behind his head. "What's going on with you and Reid?" he demanded.

Miriam choked on her glass of water, sputtering out a few drops onto her empty plate as she baffled through just _what_ had given her away to the profiler.

"We haven't become your newest case yet, so that's something."

"Nope. You're tying your shoes, Mir. Double knots means you've got something to spill that you should probably see a therapist for."

Despite being called out on the old tick, she could not calm her fingers from twisting and redoing the knots as the memories of the kiss was dredged from the careful depths where she buried it. She swam in it for a few spare moments, lips tingling in anticipation of another drink from forbidden the waters.

"He drag you to one of his nerd conventions? I can see how that can be scaring. Or worse, did you like it?"

"I don't know," she muttered, finally meeting his familiar gaze and relaxing into the warm brown hues. "Yes?"

"The convention?"

"The kiss."

Morgan's chair legs hit the ground with a definitive thud and he leaned forward on his elbows with his mouth parted in a silent laugh. "Who'd you kiss at the nerd thing? A cosplayer? Someone famous? One of those doctors from a show he watches is pretty cute. I wouldn't blame you."

"I did kiss a doctor."

Morgan's smile vanished as a cloud claimed the sun. "You're talking about Reid. You kissed my coworker. No wonder he's been talking faster around me. I thought he just found a new book to perk him up. You're his book?"

"Funny, he's been avoiding me very thoroughly."

"Well, if you've been scowling like that, I would too."

She stood up, swinging her backpack over her shoulders. "I'll text you from the airport. I still have to go home and pack."

"Woah, hey. You can't run off for work without at least giving me a hug. You'll be gone for, what? Two weeks? Let's go clubbing when you get back. We don't even have to talk about pretty boy if you don't want. You can bring that Shona from your office…"

"She's still married Derek." Miriam turned to bury herself in his reassuring hold. They both smelled of hard earned sweat from the run and a little sugar from the powder he had smeared down the front of his shirt.

"Alright, alright. Be safe. Love you."

"You too. I'll call you."

The drive back to her apartment went by entirely too fast because she was still thinking about that damn kiss and that damn man with the unruly hair and his surplus of cardigans. The stairs blurred beneath her feet. She was wrenching her hair free of its constraints when she finally trudged in the door, legs happily sore.

Reid looked up from his textbook that appeared to be written in ancient Russian, his glasses sliding down his nose so there was no barrier between their eyes.

"Look who's home," Miriam called, marching to her room.

"You," Reid threw right back.

She forced a grin to strain on her lips, dumping her bag and kicking her shoes off to a corner. She knelt, digging around under her bed for her biggest suitcase and set it on her bed.

"You going somewhere for work again?" Reid called, setting down his book and propping up to peer over the back of the chair where he lounged.

"I'm moving out, actually. Going to live in Egypt. It's still hot there, but at least they have like the pyramids and not your nosey ass."

"Between the rainy season and the mating rituals of the locust this time of year, I doubt its very tourist friendly," he replied.

She was stuffing clothes into the bottom without bothering to fold them. Reid was padding over in his house slippers, hugging his sweatshirt around his scrawny frame. He was still in his plaid pajama bottoms and his bangs fell into still sleepy eyes. She wondered if he had fallen asleep in that chair last night. She had ended up crashing with Morgan after a night on the town. Something lurched in her chest and she slammed in a pair of hiking boots followed by her most functional bra.

"Somewhere warm definitely, but a rain coat and a water filter. Are you going cover the flood down in Chile? That's horrible and fascinating."

"How did you even…never mind, yeah. Had to grovel for the chance to do this, but it's going to be so worth it to talk to these people live. Their recovery is already beginning and I'm just baffled that they can be so resilient and what?" she snapped when she realized he was staring at her.

He shook his head and twisted his endlessly uneasy hands together. "I'm sure your piece will be amazing."

"What did you break? Was it the new coffee maker? You better have it replaced by the time I get back."

"I'm not allowed to genuinely compliment you?"

"Sure, if you can tell me you don't want anything."

"I just want to talk."

"Oh, good. I was beginning to worry you'd forgotten how these past few weeks. You know, since we kissed." Red raced to color his cheeks and his lips pursed into a thin line while his eyes darted about. "Talk, doctor. I have to go catch my flight."

She huffed in frustration as her suitcase refused to zip shut. She heaved her weight onto her arms but could not hold it down to reach for the zipper. Reid patted the top wordlessly and she jumped up to sit on the lid. He closed it, keeping his head down all the while. When he finally did raise it, she could read his intentions as easily as if she had been a profiler herself. He was never good at disguising what he was feeling and right now it rolled off his like welcoming waves. His arms were braced on either side of her, his legs somehow between her thighs and her judgment clear out the country already.

"Don't you dare start this when I'm about to leave, Reid," she warned.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, mouth scarcely moving as he dipped it closer and closer.

"Yeah, me too." She wound her hand into the hair on the back of his neck to hurry the process along.

When their mouths met, she let out an embarrassing whimper and risked pulling back onto to sneak in a breath. He did not afford her that, but molded his lips to hers like he planned to create a sculpture from the moment. Her breath was nothing but him, her tongue tasted of his where he slid it curiously along hers. His touch burned a clear path up her back where his hands sought out her flesh. Every one of her senses were in their own flood known as Spencer.

Her ankles formed an anchor at the small of his back, dragging him closer to a yet unexplored region. He gasped into her mouth, and she took the opportunity to rid her body of the shirt entirely. Her hands dove for his, prying at the loose fabric gently. She kissed his jaw reassuringly, savoring the stubble he let grow in the absence of work, and he raised his arms to aid the process and was the one to dive back in for a reigniting of the kiss.

His skin against hers was a sharp sting, a clarifying shock that rang through her body and settled to steady hum in her chest. They wrestled off her sports bra and she rocked back when his mouth did not return to hers but instead focused with keen precision on her waiting breasts. Her hands braced behind her, sinking into the mattress while she arched to the inquisitive mouth sucking delightful paths along her body.

They were not friends exactly, definitely not lovers. Hell, they weren't even acquaintances. They were roommates who fought and saw way too much of each other on a daily basis. And right now, she wanted to see a whole lot more. When his teeth tugged at her nipple her eyes rolled back, all the way back to the clock on her bedside. The plane she was trying to catch might as well have crashed into her at that moment.

She put a hand to Reid's shoulder and he got the message from the double tap of her fingers signaling the end. He straightened, combing at his hair, adjusting something she would think about way too much later in his pants.

"Oh god, why didn't you stop me? Christ, we can't keep doing that. I was trying to talk to you."

"I thought talking was an innuendo for sex."

"What!" his voice skipped up, face dusting even more than his heaving chest.

"Ok, fine. Fuck. Didn't mean to imply that you had human needs, doctor." She jumped down, seeking out a change of clothing for the flight.

He swallowed, lacing his hands behind his neck while his teeth chewed away at his kiss-swollen lower lip. She pulled on a simple dress and tugged her shorts off, hurling them at Reid while she replaced the built in undies with cotton ones. He had yet to leave when she tucked her feet away in sandals.

"You gonna spit it out or what?"

"I haven't tried to talk to you before because I didn't know what I wanted to say. And when I get around you it gets hard for me to sort out what I want from…"

"What's actually hard?" She sent a dry wink down to his pants.

"Yes," he admitted. "And I wanted to do this without you running for the door."

"Your yammering causes that most days anyway. Today isn't much different. I'm just…"

"Deflecting!" he cut her off. "Sorry, I'm sorry. Can you just, for once, stop pretending nothing affects you? Because that kiss was something, the first one was too."

"You saying I'm full of shit?" she laughed, tucking her ticket and passport away into her backpack.

A smile flickered in the aftermath of his frustration. "Pretty sure I am too. Let's just take the break with stride. We'll both sort out what we want and when you come back we can figure it out."

"What if I meet a hot Chilean?"

"What if I do?" Reid's smile was small and shy, but real and just for her and she mirrored it twofold in the next heartbeat.

"Morgan says hi by the way."

"I'm sure he does."


	3. Michigan

**Let's get down and dirty my darlings!**

The hell Morgan gave her when he found out she was ditching their clubbing evening to meet Reid was enough to make her reconsider just about everything short of her new sensible heels. She changed from her fitted pencil skirt and button up into a loose grey halter dress that the summer breeze would hopefully keep clear of her already agitated skin.

He would be coming from work. That meant she got the apartment to herself as she resigned to her choice.

In her initial survey of their shared abode, she noted yet another bookshelf had been purchased and halfway filled in her absence. The place had been scrubbed with only Reid's discarded cardigans taking up the whole damn coat rack to tell her he still lived there. She swiped one up, hugging it to her chest, breathing in the familiar scent of home. Her breath caught in her throat and she closed her eyes with resolution. A childish whim to hold on a few moments longer had her slipping the cozy fabric around her own shoulders and striding back to her room to pass the time with unpacking.

Planes were never early. She had counted on her late arrival to give her no thinking time. Instead, she had managed to run to the store, wash a load of laundry, and even shower all while waiting on a text from Reid. Her purchases sat on her bed, giving away her intentions at a glance. Cardboard boxes, a new suitcase, a bundle of puffer coats and snow boots. She sighed, rubbing a hand down her face and letting the floorboards coax her down. Knees folded, arms wrapped up in red fabric, head leaned back against the wall. She wanted this. She would do it.

A key was turning in the lock. Her feet scrambled to get her upright to see who was arriving. It had to be the landlord, but usually she knocked. Maybe Reid gave a key out to someone. Maybe Morgan picked the lock.

A head of fluffy brown hair strolled in. Beneath it were gangly limbs, a sweater vest and eyes that flickered to full brightness when they spotted her.

"You said 8 o'clock. So, I figured your plane would show up around 9."

"8 was already with the calculated flight delay. We actually left early. How's that for your stats?"

All the while she was speaking, he was striding closer, assessing every inch of her, covered and uncovered, fixating on the traitorous cardigan she still wore. "Were you planning on wearing that to meet me at the coffee shop? I was just stopping by to grab my wallet and an umbrella. There's 30% chance of rain tonight but the last few times that was predicted, I got stormed on, so I'm basing the assumption that it will in fact rain on personal experience. Did you want to grab your umbrella before we left?"

He was walking towards her room, leaving her standing there computing the whirlwind of words. Only when she registered his absence, did she spin on her heel and chase after him. "Spencer, wait!" She rammed into the back of him where he stood frozen in the doorway.

"You're moving out," he mumbled. "Guess that answers that."

"Spencer…"

"Ok look, you don't get to call me that only when you need something or feel bad. It's alright, I understand. You chose. That's fine. I'm fine. You don't have to move out because you have no feelings for me."

"I never said that, Spencer." She touched his hand and he pulled away, pacing into the living room to put space between them.

"I asked you to stop. Quite civilly too, I think. So if you could not make this worse than it already feels, that would be great."

"I got a job offer in Michigan. I got an editing position, so I can stay in one place and run whatever stories I want instead of racing all over the globe writing what my boss tells me to. I emailed you my story from Chile because I was so proud. I'm still getting reviews about how amazing it was and someone read it and loved it as much as me and they offered me a job. So, yeah, I am moving. Of course you were a constant factor, and if we were already together, that's one thing, but I can't fathom starting a relationship as long distance with no end in sight."

"A variable," he said.

The rant rounded to a pause at the interruption. She blinked up at him, too baffled to even inquire what he meant.

"You said I was a constant, but that is not accurate because there is no way you could have predicted my choice. So I was a variable and you can't solve a problem until you figure out the variable. So, you chose not because of me but despite what I might say. Would you stay if I told you I loved you? If I proposed?"

"You don't and you're not."

His smile was sad, barely reaching his cheeks and most assuredly not his watery eyes. "I could. Eventually."

"Thought you didn't like hypotheticals, doctor."

He laughed, a small broken sound that she refused to let be the last thing she remembered about him. She strode forward, catching his cheek. He sighed as if in begrudging acceptance of what came next and initiated the kiss. He sat them on the couch and he was the one that pulled her to straddle him. There was a breath and a heartbeat and then all her worries were chased away by the gentle insistence of his fingers on the tie of her dress.

Something wet brushed her cheek, falling between their mouths so she could taste the salt from his tear. And there was something sour in the back of her throat at just the idea of leaving him. Just like their first kiss. She laughed too, pressing the expression against him as her chest squeezed in the realization. This was all they were meant for. Come tomorrow she would be gone for good with only a name in her phone to remind her of the incredible man she now held. But tonight she had him. Tonight she etched memories neither of them would soon forget.

"Those jackets won't be near warm enough for Michigan winters just so you know. It can drop below zero some nights and hold that clear through the day. You'll need the ones with insulation. Ear muffs too. That's the most vulnerable part of you in the snow. That and your nose, but they don't make nose muffs yet," Reid yammered on.

"I'll layer up," she promised, pressing a kiss to his nose that made his cheeks dimple. There was a heat just beneath the surface of her skin that every press from him only stoked further. If that travelled with her, she had no qualms about braving the cold. "You don't forget to pay the air conditioning bill during summer. This place heats up like a sauna and as relaxing as those are I don't need you heat stroking out in your sleep."

"I'd more likely just wake up sweating. To have a heat stroke a temperature must be reached of at least 104 combined with vigorous physical activity."

"Hot. Physical activity. Sweating. I can do that."

She pulled off his sweater vest, diving for the buttons of his shirt while he removed the already loose tie. It was like an unrehearsed play with bumbled hands and forgotten lines. The costumes definitely had to go, Miriam decided as they rendered his torso bare. Her hands reached for his pants and a shudder from the doctor accompanied the low moan he was unable to fight back. His lips were parted, leanly muscled body arched to fulfill her every wish.

The call of his exposed skin was too alluring for her to do anything but eulogize it by way of flutters of kisses to every portion she could reach. Clean and unadulterated was the air she breathed in. Deliciously sinful were the sounds she was able to drag through his clenched teeth. When she finally rid him of the last garments keeping him from her, his eyes fell open. Rambunctious strands of his hair were pushed out of his face so he could better view the woman kneeling between his thighs.

"You look beautiful, doctor," she called when he failed to produce anything coherent.

His tongue darted out to hurry the process of a response. The room was desperately still, begging them to stir it. A kiss was pressed to his hip bone, then one to the other. His quickly hardening length demanded her attention, but still she stalled to drag this on as long as long as the night allowed.

His plea was a breathless whisper and his cry when she attended to his firm desire loud enough to inform the whole building of their deeds. Her hands were sure in their quest, seeking out his weakness, claiming their prize. His were not; they tied knots in her hair for leverage or maybe an anchor to this earth. While his mouth let out moans and pants any porno would have been glad to have a soundtrack of; hers sought to elicit them.

Hollow cheeks and helping hands wound him into a frenzy before she could even achieve a steady rhythm.

"Mir, Miriam, I…" he paused to grunt out approval as her tongue swept a deliberate path across his tip. His head fell back, baring his throat as it bobbed with a swallow. "I want to finish with you," he begged.

She withdrew, arms braced on either side of his shoulders as the pair sought after their lost breaths in the tender lull.

"You want more?" she asked.

"I want everything." His hands completed their earlier deed of pulling down her dress but made no reach for the cardigan now draped over both of them like a shield protecting them from a cruel morning. "If you consent, of course. You have made ample nonverbal cues to the like but I prefer words and you definitely know that because I'm using a lot of them right now. If you want me to shut up, an answer would be appreciated. I was reading this article that said at least half of people who reach this point realize it is anything but what they signed on for and we are both very naked…"

She hummed, moving to straddle him again. He straightened his posture, hands unconsciously steadying her perch on his tense thighs. Her mouth dipped to his ear. "If you ever quit babbling I would be able to say yes."

He exhaled the anxiety from every recess of his body at the familiar teasing. He guided her mouth back to his and she guided him to thrust inside her. The urge to surge forward all at once all but carried her away, but Reid held them steady, held her hips to his while the eager pulsations of their needs rolled through her with rapturous swells.

His open mouth roamed across her cheeks, down her neck, settling with heaving breaths between her breasts. "Yes," he said.

That was greenlight enough and she rose up and down on his length. His mouth fell open, teeth scraping out against her skin as the barest moan escaped him. Something warm floated to her chest not entirely separate from the carnal touches but enough so that she stored it away for closer surveillance later. Her face dipped to bury in his flurry of hair and hands splayed down his hunched back to memorize his skin, to trace words she could not articulate onto it.

He caught onto the gentle pace, rising up to meet her blow for blow. She rocked back when he rose up faster and harsher than she expected and hit that perfect spot. "God. Fuck. _Spencer_."

The small of her back was braced while he moved them. She found herself on her back with somehow even less space between their connected bodies. Brown eyes and clinging fingers and her own fresh tear is what she locked away; Reid is what she wrapped herself around while she could. As his stride increased, the precision decreased, but he was not far enough gone in the enchanting bliss to neglect the part of her body that would send them to climaxes together.

Miriam decided there was nothing more pure that his thumb circling her clit. The decision was likely influenced by the choir of angels she heard when she came around him. Only afterwards did she realize it had been his voice singing to her through his own release.

She swiped at a bead of sweat from his forehead, smoothing his hair back into its usual disastrous state. "I do believe you earned another PhD for this, doctor."

His smile was fleeting, a shooting star too fragile for her to wish upon. "Michigan?"

"Michigan," she confirmed.

"When do you leave?"

"Tomorrow."

"I did read the article you sent. You deserve that job. You deserve more than me. But the comma use was a little liberal and the vocabulary levels slightly irregular."

 **More to come soon!**


	4. Mabel

If there was anything Miriam hated more than snow, it was the ice patch that made her bruise her ass. Worse, it was right before the entrance steps to the police station so she had the pleasure of strolling in there with damp khakis and a bruised elbow. Her laptop survived at least and she whipped it out when she spotted the chief at her desk.

"You're early," the dark haired woman swimming in paperwork behind the counter clipped.

Miriam typed away as she talked and seated herself in the spare chair without invitation. "I know. I know. I couldn't wait. Ortega, tell me we're not dealing with a serial killer. Tell me the over excitable idiots on the radio don't know what they're talking about."

"That's what you think? I was wondering why you didn't just send down one of your little interns to cover this. You got nothing to worry about. Even less to print."

Miriam's fingers hit save before she narrowed her gaze. "That's a very careful phrase, chief. Who fed it to you? The state? They trying to keep this low profile because of the type of killer? He narcissistic? Will media coverage only provoke him further? Or will it send him running before you can catch him?"

"Hell, M. You're too damn smart to be this far up my ass. If I promise to interview with you first after all this will you leave?"

"I'll even buy the drinks for the date. Thanks sugarplum." Miriam stood only to feel her stomach drop clean through the floor.

She recognized the spritely blonde in a ponytail strutting through the station. The open curtains of the chief's windows allowed her the perfect line of sight to see just how excellent her timing was. At JJ's back was Morgan with his signature leather jacket and overworn black jeans. And behind him came Hotch and Prentiss jostling a cuffed man between them who was bleeding through a bandage on his shoulder. Last was Reid. Reid with blood on his forehead and his eyes downcast on where his hands tied and untied knots with a hairband.

"Chief," Rossi stuck his head in the door to Miriam's back. She knew him and the others from passing, mostly from pictures Morgan sent and Reid used to have around the apartment. The Italian man was shorter than she imagined; it was probably the bulky boots she selected for the day that gave her additional height. "I know you wanted to be there," he continued. "But the moron jumped the kid. Thought him and that revolver would not be able to handle themselves but he's fine and the unsub is secured. You can question him first if you like. Whenever you're done here."

Rossi clapped the door frame, nodding to Miriam before tilting his head. "I know you from somewhere."

"I'm sure you do. Miriam here will hound just about anyone to get a good story," Chief Ortega input.

His fingers snapped as Rossi placed her face. "Morgan's Miriam. You used to play house with the doctor. Did you know we were here or something?"

There was something stuck in her throat, probably a log or her own damn foot. She could write for days on end, she could talk longer given the right topic, but when questioned about one Spencer Reid it seems the fifth was pleading her.

"Hey, Rossi, did I give you the keys? Hotch will kill me if I lose those again." Morgan was in the doorway. He forgot his question when he followed Rossi's line of site. "Hey there angel. And here I was planning to call you when all this was settled. Should've known you would be all over this."

There was a thud when she smacked into him for a hug. He laughed, shaking her whole body with the motion. "Missed you too."

"You fellows get lunch?" Ortega asked as she stood and tugged on her official brown jacket. "I'm messing. I know you didn't. Too busy doing my job. Some nice folks from the local church are making sandwiches for the whole department upstairs. Why don't you guys go grab some while I do my interview?"

"Even if that were a choice, I would opt for the sandwiches. I've had enough crazy on my plate today. You kids head up. I'll get the others," Rossi offered.

"How do you get more handsome every time, Derek?" Miriam demanded as they were left alone.

"Four months is too long and FaceTime doesn't do me justice. But you know all about that struggle." He tugged a loose lock of hair.

A swat of his chest accompanied with the roll of her eyes settled them back into their easy relationship. She took his arm, leading him upstairs to gain more mental preparedness time before she faced Reid. She absentmindedly told the church woman her order and accepted the food without checking the contents. Morgan pulled out folding chairs for them at the large round table and promptly inhaled his food.

"So is this normal avoid Reid or did something happen?"

"What could happen? We're four states apart."

He munched on his second sandwich with a raised eyebrow. The church woman scurried over with an extra one just for him and he threw her a wink. She blushed, touching his FBI jacket and fleeing back to her working station.

Miriam took a bite of her own, deciding an occupied mouth was harder for Morgan to interrogate. "She put ham on when I requested turkey."

"With Reid."

"I'm sure his sandwich will be fine. Eve has it out for me ever since I wrote that one minorly scathing article on her pastor husband."

Rossi entered dragging with him Hotch and Prentiss. The trio set to schmoozing Eve for the little chocolate mints she kept hidden in her purse.

"Miriam…"

"I have to go, but you should stop by before you head back. I miss you like crazy and my new roommate is crazy and it's always so fucking cold here and you're a really warm cuddler. My ass is still covered in melted ice and my feet hurt because of these damn shoes."

"And the band of your pants is elastic," Morgan added. "In spite of the heaters in here, you've kept on that incredibly bulky jacket. And you hate turkey, Mir. Four months?" he asked softly.

She set the sandwich down, head dipping in silent acknowledgement. "I have to go. I can't do this right now." She was hurrying from the room, down back hallways she knew led to the side exit.

Morgan caught up in a matter of feet and blocked her path with his body. "I'm not trying to push you..."

"Not that it's any of your damn business, but he texted me yesterday that he was in town, unlike you I might add. He didn't mention the case. I had no clue any of you would be here today. He is supposed to come over tonight and that's what I'm prepared for. Not right now. Not while we are both at work."

"I was gonna say I'm here for you whatever you decide."

She sagged forward against him. He draped his arms around her shoulders in a loose hug. "And just so we're clear, I'm the godfather."

The afternoon passed before she could convince her body a nap was a good idea. Coffee with the chief was not happening until the following morning, so she could only write up so much. Then pacing took over, then cooking something that somehow turned out grey in her pot, so the dishes had to be done. The clock told her Reid was late, her phone informed her that he had not even bothered to send an explanation.

It was only after she devoured half of a delivery pizza that her doorbell rang. She scowled at it and considered ditching him for the food altogether. Her phone rang in her lap. Spencer's name and the one good picture she ever managed to take of him lit it up. She tapped answer and used a sauce covered hand to raise it to her ear.

"I'm mad at you," she said.

"I fell asleep. I'm so incredibly sorry. I don't sleep when I'm in the middle of a case and I'm mad at you too. You were at the police station and did not even bother to say hello?"

She got up, striding over to the peephole so she could watch him. She got only the image of his pestering nose pressed against it. "Well you were covered in blood and seemed busy."

"It wasn't mine. And I would have welcomed the distraction."

She sighed, letting his sincere words smooth things over, and turned the lock. His hair was longer, she noted. That did not surprise her. The man could not go a month without completely remodeling the mass. He wore a wrinkled robe and a white t shirt with a drool stain on it. Unevenly rolled sweatpants topped off the look. He hung up, sliding the phone into his bag and leaning back on the heels of his socked feet.

"I'm only letting you in because you look like you have frostbite, doctor. You cannot go running around here half dressed in winter."

"It's still technically fall for three more days. Thought I was meeting your roommate." He strolled in, toeing off his damp socks and swallowing a moan at the sight of the pizza.

"Yeah, I was counting on the buffer too, but the punk is off with her family or something. She's always inconsiderate like this."

He dove into the pizza without an invitation and seated himself on the couch. She hesitated as memories of the last time they shared a sofa surfaced, but the hunger still raging in her gut won out. She draped her legs over his lap, lounging back against the pillows as she surveyed him. He was all gangly lines and loose attire—just like she remembered.

A personal heater kick started in her chest and she huffed in irritation. Somehow the time apart only made her fonder of him. Her hand settled on her stomach as she sought for the words that would either cement them or send him sprinting back to D.C.

"Did you know pizza was actually invented in Naples as a gift for the king and queen when they passed through? So we are literally eating royal food."

"Spencer…"

"What's wrong?" he demanded instantly.

"I have another roommate."

"Besides the worst one ever?"

"Well, that title officially goes to you, but yes."

"What's the name? Where are they tonight? And where do they sleep because there are only two rooms and this couch feels like it will result in severe back conditions."

"Well, Mabel, for a girl and I don't know for a boy. I thought you could choose that."

He set down his pizza, scooting closer with an amused smile laced with far too little confusion. "Are you talking about a baby?"

"You fucking liar! Did Derek tell you?"

"I swear that was more convincing in my mirror. He didn't tell me. He didn't have to. Mir, you think I could miss all the changes in you and your lifestyle?" His hand carded through her hair, landing with an affectionate squeeze to her chin.

"I drink one decaf coffee over FaceTime and you assume I'm pregnant?"

"No, but I know you too well to miss the signs."

"You ever gonna tell me?"

"Whenever you decided to tell me," he countered. His hand fell to her stomach, nudging up the hem of her shirt to graze his knuckles over the slightly rounded flesh. "Mabel?" he murmured.

"I'm hoping for a girl, in case you couldn't tell. Can't have a boy coming out with your stupid face." Said stupid face was lowering to plant a kiss to her abdomen.

"Genetics say that the chances of that depend whose genes are dominant. You're pretty bossy, so you may be in luck."

A chime came from his phone, drawing his focus away from her. He read the message with a frown. "I have to be up early tomorrow for the flight back. Any chance I can borrow some shoes so I can get back to the hotel?"

"And have your big ass feet stretch out my new pregnancy shoes? Not a chance."

He protested and she pressed a soft kiss to his lips. "You'll stay here, doctor," she said.

"I know." He punctuated the infuriating statement by reattaching their lips.

They remained that way, exchanging sweet reminiscent kisses, all the way back to her bedroom. The door was kicked shut and his bag set on the dresser. She went to take off her jacket and he yawned into her mouth.

"Sorry I'm not stimulating enough, doctor." She shoved his chest and he stumbled back weakly to lay on her bed, knees bent over the edge.

"You know I want this, Mir. I want you and this baby, mostly you right now if I'm being honest." His tongue wet his lips. "But maybe with more than two hours of sleep to my name."

"No midnight store runs then?"

He caught her waist, pressing a kiss up to her chin. "Sleep." He pleaded with big shadowed eyes.

There was a breath, a timid smile, and love. "Sleep."

 **Only one more chapter and I'm very please with how this has all gone so far. Do you guys agree?**


	5. Spencer

At this moment, there was not a thing Miriam could think of that was more important than the unshakable grip of Spencer's entire body around her one arm. The affection seeping from her smile when she rolled from her back to face him was enough to rival the stubborn cold bashing tree branches against her window. The ball he was curled in did not seem possible with his miles of limbs, but he drooled away soundly in the grasp of sleep.

She scooted closer, coaxing his arms apart so she could slide between them. He hummed only waking enough to hook his knee over her waist.

"Spence," she whispered, prodding his stomach.

"Spencer is off duty for twenty five more minutes when his alarm goes off."

Miriam leaned over him to check the time and huffed out her irritation. "You peaked. You can't know what time it is."

"My biological clock has never failed me." He replied, finally blinking open the glowing hues of eyes she remembered from back home.

"That means we have twenty five minutes until you have to leave?"

"Yeah," he mumbled, fingers carding through the tangles in her hair.

"Do you think we're good together, Spence?"

His mouth twitched up, fingers shifting to trace beneath her mouth. "I think we push each other, not necessarily in a bad way. It's one that sort of encourages personal growth."

"You leaving your scarf in the sink encourages growth?"

"To be fair I didn't know it fell there and you were the one who poured your noodles all over it."

"I didn't know I was supposed to check kitchen appliances for clothing articles!"

His cheeks dimpled and his hair caressed her cheeks as he rolled over her to retrieve his phone from the nightstand. She continued the motion until she landed sitting up on his lap. He ignored her position, typing out a few emails and worrying his tongue between his teeth.

She sighed, pushing up the hem of his shirt to trace the lines of his hips and the sparse coarse hair above the line of his pants. She watched his chest draw a deeper breath than normal and his fingers stumbled for a moment.

"Give me a second," he muttered, brows pushing together to boost his concentration.

"D.C. has really good school districts," she said.

His phone was locked and away and he was sitting up to catch her face between his hands. "You're serious? Because I've looked into them too. To convince you that I want to be a part of this."

"Of course you did." Her hands folded over his, twining their fingers and bringing their grasp to her stomach. "In case you didn't know I'm kind of a big deal out here," she continued.

"I read every one of your articles, even the ones you commission and just sign off on."

"There's a chief editor in D.C. that is retiring next month and she flew out here to meet me. Gave me her blessing and recommendation. I haven't formerly accepted the job yet because I wanted to ask you this time."

For once Spencer did not bombard her with reasoning or even words. He just let their lips meet in a kiss filled with such passion that she wondered if they had truly ever kissed before.

"Come home," he whispered against her. "Be with me." He pulled away so he could meet her eyes for the last bit. "Please."

He might as well have held her heart in his hands for all the strings on it his tight voice tugged. She leaned forward, pressing their foreheads together, rubbing her nose along his. "Alright, fine you talked me into it."

He laughed, the beautiful sound wrapping around her chest and luring her in to taste it. He kissed her briefly, not nearly enough to satisfy the void of the months apart.

"I need to shower," he said.

Miriam heaved herself off him, striding away.

"I didn't mean right now. I had plans for you. Where are you going?" he called after her.

She cast an enticing glance over her shoulder, tracing an absent minded hand down the side of his ass to reel that man in like he was on her line. "To shower," she said.

Spencer was up, bait accepted, following her into the compact bathroom. She giggled as he caught her up in his arms spinning to press her back against the now closed bathroom door. "Take your clothes off," he instructed, turning to cut on the water and giving her the perfect angle of his small ass.

Her shirt became acquainted with the floor followed shortly by her panties. Spencer tested the water with his hand while she slunk up behind him and slipped her hand beneath his shirt to sample the warm skin of his back.

"How long will I have to wait for you this time?" he asked, raising his arms to give aid in rendering him equally as naked.

She did so and he set to work kicking away his pants while she kissed the soft skin of his shoulder. He rocked back into the simple touch, head rolling back as a needy whimper fled his parted lips. She rose up on her toes to kiss below his ear and draw out yet another one of those intoxicating noises. Her heart thumped along in time with the low thrum of the water. Steam wafted up as if they couldn't create enough heat on their own.

He turned, fingertips snatching out to find hers and coax her back to him.

"Soon." The soothing caress of the water added to Spencer's and her own moan escaped. "I've got a doctor's appointment next week if you wanted to fly back up."

"I've got vacation time. You know I was reading that it's actually highly important for…"

"You to kiss me?"

A laugh and a press of his mouth to hers. He pulled the curtain into place and she pushed her body into his, its perfect place. This time she knew what she was getting into. This time Spencer was not just a roommate, he was hers.


End file.
